


Aphrodite From Foam

by AssistedRealityInterface



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Consensual Sex, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Sex Pollen, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, consent is discussed beforehand there is no dubcon in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 15:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8407195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AssistedRealityInterface/pseuds/AssistedRealityInterface
Summary: Cisco gets a faceful of pheromones from a rogue meta. Things fall apart from there.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted something akin to sex pollen, (aka fuckdust, the superior term), but with consent, and my trans son, Cisco Ramon, and his asshole boyfriend, so...well, that's what I wrote. Also, Lisa, because I love her, and goldenvibe is also very important to me?  
> God, it's hard to write notes and summaries for smut. Enjoy!

“Oh, welcome back,” Hartley said by way of greeting, rolling his head in Cisco’s direction as he leaned against the Cortex containment tube. “You think you’d get bored of me by now, Francisco.”

“Please die,” Cisco said in response, their usual back and forth. He sat down in a lab chair and slumped, fiddling with his phone. Hartley swept his gaze up and down Cisco’s body; this, too, was normal, but he was undressing the other man with intent to analyze rather than devour.

“You look like you had a rough time of it,” Hartley said. “You know, I never pegged the Flash for a hard fuck. He looks like he can’t figure out how to be a twink, but he’s _trying.”_

Cisco glared at him over the top of his phone. “You know, Girls Generation has been a band for ten years. That’s a _lot_ of K-pop I could put on full blast in there.”

“Oh, but you _won’t_. You’re already overstimulated enough as it is, and torturing me’s no fun when you get hurt too,” Hartley crooned. “Unless you think it pains me to see you suffer, in which case, you’re correct.”

Cisco grumbled and jerked his head to the side. Hartley popped his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Fine. Be difficult! I was just going to ask how you’ve been, since the only person I have to converse with is my reflection, and you’re such a scintillating partner for conversations, _mi alma._ ”

“S’fine,” Cisco said, rubbing his head. “Was out dealing with some new meta. They got away, but I got a face full of whatever their power was.”

“Ooh,” Hartley sighed, “how I would have loved to see that.”

“Get bent,” Cisco said, but he snorted at the thought. “S’nothing. It was just some golden glittery gunk.”

Hartley paused, worried at his lip. Cisco noted the beat of silence and raised his eyebrow. Hartley turned to face him properly, leaning his elbows against the glass. “Francisco, light of my life, _amor de mi alma—“_

“Knock it off, _pendejo,”_ Cisco snapped. Hartley rolled his eyes and groaned.

“The meta—was it a blonde girl? Like, your height, all tiny and cute?”

Cisco bristled. Hartley nodded. “That’s a yes, and I know her, and you should go find the Flash.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re gonna need that hard fuck soon enough,” Hartley sighed. “Oh, wow. You really picked a bad day to go superheroing it up—“

“I’m leaving,” Cisco sighed, getting up. Hartley slammed his hand on the glass and flinched in pain. It made Cisco stop, just long enough for him to realize the room was warm. Like, really warm.

“Oh, man,” Hartley sighed. “Cisco. You are absolutely fucked, you know that?”

His gaze sharpened, and he adjusted his glasses. Cisco put a hand to his neck, listening to his pulse throb, quickening against his touch. He swallowed and gaped. “Oh my god. What’s with my pulse?”

“Okay, we’ll both get through this if I cut to the chase with a solid reference; welcome to Pon Farr, _mi alma,”_ Hartley said. Cisco furrowed his brow.

“No,” he said. “That’s stupid. It was just some glitter.”

“No, it was distilled pheromone,” Hartley said. “God dammit, I hate Aphrodite. I bet she thinks she’s helping me, the awful bitch.”

“You’re _kidding,”_ Cisco said, drawing himself up and blinking. “Her name’s not _really_ Aphrodite?”

“No, it’s Anastasia Flannery Burke, of the Star City Burkes,” Hartley said. “The future Mrs. Hartley Rathaway, actually, before I told my parents I’m into dudes exclusively and got, yanno.”

Cisco stared. “Did I just meet your fiancée?”

“Um, ex-fiancée, for one, and two, you didn’t _meet_ her, you got a faceful of fuck-dust from her,” Hartley said. “It’s an important distinction, Ramon. Don’t miss it.”

“Would you fucking—“ Cisco sucked in a breath. “Whatever. Why does my chest hurt?”

“Leftover pain from top surgery scars?”

“I’m going to open that door and punch your dick off,” Cisco groused. Hartley shrugged.

“Well, I was trying to be polite,” he said. “Truth? You got fuck-dusted about ten minutes ago. Should kick in within ten minutes. Maybe fifteen, if you’re lucky.”

“How do you know all this?” Cisco said. “You’re not Caitlin.”

Hartley’s lip curled. “Thank god for that.”

Cisco glared at Hartley and he huffed, wrinkling his nose. “Well, it’s true. And besides, Cisco, I run with these people. I know all about her powerset. She’s so proud of the shit she can do, the smug bitch.”

“Um, excuse me, pot, meet kettle,” Cisco said. “You’d have been a perfect match.”

“I prefer dick, thanks,” Hartley huffed. Cisco shifted from foot to foot and glanced away, furrowing his brow.

“Do they know you were supposed to marry her?” Cisco said. “Speaking of, messed _up_. Do you rich people _really_ do pre-arranged marriages still?”

“Okay, chill, Haruhi Fujioka, and yes, kinda?” Hartley said. Cisco brightened up.

“You actually watched _Ouran?”_ he said. “I remember when I told you to watch. You just said anime was garbage for idiots who liked to jerk it to little girls.”

“I mean, some of it is,” Hartley said. “You gotta admit, predators _live_ for lolicon shit to groom their victims.”

“Yeah, some of it is super bad,” Cisco agreed with a shrug. “Actually, lately, most of it—it’s really just because otaku are the only ones buying figures and DVDs, which generates revenue, and that means—“

“Okay, Cisco, special interest me later, please!”

Cisco made a face at him. Hartley made a face back and Cisco cracked a grin. “Jerk.”

Hartley sighed, shaking his head. “Look, my main point is, in about two minutes, you’re going to be naked on the floor begging for someone to fuck you, and god only knows when someone’s going to come down here. Not in enough time to keep your brain from overheating and literally destroying itself.”

“Holy shit,” Cisco said. He was tugging at his shirt collar. Hartley didn’t even pretend not to notice. “That’s not normal.”

“This isn’t normal sex,” Hartley said, “and you have about three minutes and twenty seconds left of conscious thought before you’re as single-minded as a buzzsaw, so how about I clear things up?”

Hartley tapped the glass. “Come in here, Cisco, and I’ll take good care of you. I promise. I won’t try to escape, I won’t hurt you, and I really don’t want to fuck your brains out without your consent. Because it’s kind of this, now, or you’re going to forget your name and fine motor functions by the time this passes.”

“I can’t,” Cisco hesitated, swallowing. He licked his lips, and Hartley drank in how they glistened under his tongue’s touch. “That’s bad. My chest hurts.”

“Don’t be scared,” Hartley promised. “You come here and you’ve got nothing to worry about ever again. I’ll take _such_ good care of you.”

Cisco made a soft noise and pulled at his shirt. “ _Now_ my scars itch.”

“Cisco,” Hartley said, “please. I’m not fucking around. You can handcuff me or some shit and turn my hearing aids off or—or I don’t know, but if you don’t—“

“No,” Cisco said, rubbing at his eyes. He jerked his hand away with a shudder, the sensation too much. “Can’t.”

“Yes you _can_ ,” Hartley insisted, “and you only have a few more minutes before it’s too much and if I have to sit here and watch you die, I will _literally_ kill myself.”

“Not funny,” Cisco said, “can’t do that.”

“Then don’t fucking commit suicide just because I was a dick, okay? I mean, I was trying to _court_ you. Haven’t you ever seen _Pride and Prejudice?”_

“No,” Cisco said, and for a second, clarity took over his thoughts. “You total _jackass_. You are _not_ Mr. Darcy.”

“Well, I can fucking see that now, since it didn’t exactly _work,”_ Hartley said. “Give me a break, I was a closeted, emotionally volatile disaster.”

Cisco huffed through his teeth, almost a laugh. “You’re such a dumb asshole.”

“Okay, yes, I’m the dumbest assholiest asshole who ever fucking lived, could you please—just let me _do this,_ Cisco, _please—“_

“No,” Cisco said, twiddling his hair between his fingers and shivering. He wouldn’t look at Hartley, his focus solely on his feet. “You said it yourself. You don’t _like_ pussy.”

“Oh my god,” Hartley groaned, leaning his forehead against the glass. “Cisco. You’re a dude with a vagina. I fuck dudes. That’s all. Parts are irrelevant. _Please.”_

“No it’s not,” Cisco said, flapping his hands and shaking his head, biting his lip when his hair brushed his hot, flushed skin. “No it’s _not,_ you didn’t _like_ me before because I wasn’t a _boy—“_

“Hey,” Hartley said, changing tone completely, sliding to his knees. “Cisco. That’s not true. I promise, I _promise_ that was never true.”

Cisco looked up at him, his eyes red-rimmed. Hartley held his hands up. “I was honest about everything else. You have to believe me. That _never_ mattered to me.”

“You…you wanted me?” Cisco said, wiping at his eyes. “Even before surgery?”

“Even before that,” Hartley promised. “You were still a man before the surgery, _mi alma.”_

“The scars look so weird,” Cisco mumbled, shuddering, licking his lips. Hartley could see his pupils dilating and his chest constricted in panic.

“No, they _don’t_ , and I don’t care even if they do,” Hartley said. “Cisco. Open the door. Come in here and punch me for being a cissexist fuck. It’s fine. It’s totally fine. But I need you to come here, first. Okay, _mano?”_

Cisco made a wet, desperate noise. One hand was in his pants, working them open, and in literally any other situation it would’ve commanded Hartley’s total attention. Now he banged on the glass, making Cisco look at him. “Come _on,_ Cisco. Please. I _never_ say please. Before I won’t trust a yes from you, _please—“_

Cisco swallowed, lifting his hand from his waistband. It was slick, dripping, and even though his powers were muted, Hartley would’ve sworn he could have heard the sound of it hitting the cool floor.

Cisco made his way over to the control panel, pressing his sticky fingers against the fingerprint access. Hartley moaned in relief when the glass tube slid open, and held his arms out. “Come here, baby boy. Come here. I’ve got you.”

Cisco took two steps across the room before falling, hitting his elbows and arching his back up, groaning in pain. Hartley grabbed ahold of him, pulling him into the containment chamber, trying as hard as humanly possible to ignore how Cisco rutted against his thigh, or how hot and wet his breath was in his ear.

“Oh my god,” Hartley said, mostly to himself. “Hey, gorgeous. Come here often?”

Cisco laughed against his neck, but it turned into a moan the second Hartley slid his hand down his back. He whined. “Clothes hurt. Hurt, hurt, _hurt—“_

“I know, okay, hold still,” Hartley scooted himself back until he hit the other sloping side of the tube, the padding digging into his back. “Okay, that’s it…”

Cisco panted, jerking upward as Hartley shucked his jacket and tossed his own shirt aside before he struggled to yank Cisco’s shirt off, thrashing in a desperate attempt to get the clothes away from his body and smacking Hartley in the mouth with his elbow. Hartley swallowed blood and shrugged. “Okay, fair’s fair. I was kind of a dick, a lot, all the time, because I liked you, so now we’re even, and I’m bleeding on this shirt, but it’s a fucking Vocaloid shirt, so it probably deserves it.”

“I was out of shirts in the wash today,” Cisco mumbled, turning to kiss Hartley’s throat, running his hands over his shoulders. “Have you always felt so good? And smelled so good? This is nice.”

“Like it? It’s eau de I got stuck in a test tube for three days,” Hartley replied. Cisco laughed and it made his collarbone vibrate. He ran a hand through Cisco’s long, dark hair, and Cisco’s hips bucked against his thigh like he was about to come. Hartley hissed through his teeth. “Jesus. You’re in deep. Come here, let’s get those off…”

Cisco bent to his will so easily part of Hartley worried. But it was a small part, a little knot of concern frayed away easily by the overwhelming fact of the matter that Cisco’s whole body bowed towards his touch, curling in on whatever physical contact he could receive as Hartley slid his pants down over his thighs and used his own leg to kick them off and aside, sliding his hand in Cisco’s boxers.

“Hello, beautiful,” he said. “God. You have no idea how much I’ve thought about doing this since I met you.”

Cisco whined and ground down hard on his fingers, which Hartley left cupped over his vulva, his thumb stroking the warm, damp curls. “I would’ve gone down on you if you’d offered. No matter when or where you’d offered. If we’d been in the middle of work with everyone else around I’d still have done it, and I’d have thanked you.”

“You could’ve said before,” Cisco groaned, “for fuck’s sake, you stuffy prick—“

“You swear more than usual around me,” Hartley murmured, rubbing his thumb over Cisco’s lips as his other hand slid his boxers down his sweat-soaked thighs, making sure to drag his fingers over Cisco’s inner thigh as he did. “You almost never do, until I rile you up.”

“You’re good at pushing my buttons,” Cisco admitted, “speaking of, _please—“_

“I’m not going to touch your clit,” Hartley grinned, kissing his neck. “That’s getting you off lightly, if you’ll pardon the expression.”

“I hate you, please die,” Cisco said, but he wriggled out of his boxers and turned around in Hartley’s touch, bracing himself on his shoulders. “Let me use your cock.”

“That’s—“

Hartley bit back a moan, covering his mouth with his hand. Slowly, he reached up to stroke Cisco’s cheek. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it. Sure you’ll be okay, though? I know it might be an emotional issue—”

“Emotions? You?” Cisco panted, and Hartley actually grinned, leaning in to kiss him and ignoring how Cisco bit at his lips, a man starved, rutting against his thigh.

“I know, shocking, but unless you’re sure—“

“It hurts,” Cisco interrupted. “Other stuff later. Have to fuck now _please_ my _skin_ hurts okay? Please—“

“Ssh,” Hartley said, lifting him up, rubbing the heel of his palm along his lips as Cisco moaned and cried out, his thighs clenching around Hartley’s arm. Hartley hushed him, kissing Cisco’s neck as his free hand undid his pants, shoved them down, and took his cock in hand. “God, you’re so good. I have to admit, this isn’t how I imagined fucking you first, but I’ll take it.”

He hefted Cisco up just enough to spread his thighs and hold him over the head of his cock. Cisco _keened,_ thrusting back against him, but Hartley held firm, digging his fingers into the soft, thick flesh of his inner thighs. “Speaking of firsts, am _I_ your first, _mi alma?_ ”

“Don’t,” Cisco whined, “get cocky, you f— _haah,_ fuck _you—“_

Hartley grinned, removing his lips from Cisco’s neck, dragging his tongue along the bruise he’d left. “No offense, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Cisco bucked back and tried to take Hartley’s cock; he hushed him, pulled him back so that the length of his shaft pressed against Cisco’s slit, his lips resting on top of his throbbing length. “Not that I mind, per se. It’s nice thinking every inch of you belongs to me. And it’s going to. Isn’t that right?”

“ _Please,”_ Cisco begged, licking his lips, “you’re such a _jerk,_ please—“

“Even when begging, you insult me,” Hartley sighed, smiling. “I love that about you. I know you’ve got the capacity to submit inside you, Cisco. You’ll be so good once you’ve learned to obey. So absolutely fucking perfect.”

His hands spread Cisco’s thighs wider, his cock sliding teasingly through Cisco’s folds without moving to sheathe inside him. “But until then, I’m going to have the time of my life breaking you.”

Cisco opened his mouth to protest. No sound came out but a wet, desperate little squeal. Hartley bit down on his neck, drawing blood as his split lip welled up and mingled with Cisco’s new blood, spreading over Hartley’s mouth as he moaned.

“Beg,” he said, and Cisco did.

“Please,” he whimpered, panting, sticking his tongue out, drool running down the corner of his mouth as sweat beaded along his body, dripping down his chest. “God, please, please I feel like I’m gonna die, I need this, I need you so bad, please I’ll be so good I’ll be so _aaaaah—“_

He would’ve kept begging. He would’ve been so good, but Hartley’s dick was inside him, and he had forgotten how to _breathe._

“ _Fuck,”_ Hartley grimaced, grasping Cisco’s thighs, his body rippling up into the movement, Cisco’s cunt hot and gripping his cock, silky-soft. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking tight—“

“That hurts, it hurts,” Cisco moaned, pushing back against his cock, “please keep doing it, it feels so good to hurt—“

“Oh boy,” Hartley murmured, wincing to himself as he slid a finger alongside his cock into Cisco and he _screamed,_ his head jerking back and banging Hartley’s jaw. He hissed, pulling his fingers away and examining them. They were slick, dripping, but the warm droplets were tinged with blood, mingled within the sticky fluid Hartley wiped down his own thigh. “I’m not gonna hurt you yet, because if I start now we’ll never stop.”

Cisco whined. Hartley sighed, lifting him up onto his cock. Cisco was doing most of the work, his thighs flexing, his slick skin sliding over Hartley’s, making wet, heavy noises in the silence of the Cortex. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the pulse in his cock throb. It was nothing compared to the pulse and clench of Cisco’s desperate cunt around his cock, and he knew it.

“Besides,” Hartley said, “that’s not how I wanted this to go.”

Cisco whined, jerked back. Hartley held him steady, his fingers finding Cisco’s clit. He groaned, throwing his head back again, hitting Hartley’s shoulder, his dark, sweat-sticky locks sliding over his pale skin as he tried to force his hips down on his fingers and move the rest of himself up, away from the oversensitive skin.

“I had plenty of time to think about fucking you,” Hartley promised, rubbing Cisco’s clit, pressing his thumb down and relishing the low, long, loud shriek of pleasure. “And I promise you, I wanted to, I always wanted to. You’re better than my best dreams, Cisco.”

He turned his head to lean against Hartley’s shoulder, panting, whining, squirming against his hand as Hartley slid another teasing finger in alongside his cock. Cisco moaned loud enough it almost became a retch, a gasping breath of desire, his whole body shuddering with need.

“I wanted a nice, big hotel room all to ourselves,” Hartley said, confident enough in his voice that somehow he thought Cisco would pay attention while high on pheromones and being stretched to his limit, “where I could have dinner with you by candlelight and watch the city go on below us before I brought you to your knees and fucked you against the window.”

Well, _that_ got his attention; Cisco keened, trying to grasp Hartley’s hand from around his hip and pull it closer to cover his clit. Hartley grinned. “Ah-ah. Be good.”

Cisco hissed at him, incoherent, warm, jerking against Hartley’s body. Hartley wrapped his arm around Cisco’s waist and hefted him up off his cock just long enough for Cisco’s desperate cries to ring in his ears before he lowered him back down. “There you go. You’re so well-behaved. Lisa talks a big game, but nobody could break you like I do.”

He kissed Cisco’s neck, biting, nuzzling, nipping. “I’m not surprised if I’m your first, you know, and it’s not because you’re unattractive.”

Cisco whined, reaching down, holding his own thighs open, trying to rub his clit before Hartley slapped his hand away. He elbowed him and Hartley laughed. “Don’t you dare, or I’ll pull out when I come.”

“ _Wouldn’t,”_ Cisco hissed, as far as his vocal capability could reach. Hartley clucked his tongue.

“I would, and I wouldn’t let you clean it off, either,” Hartley promised. “You’d stay wet and used and know exactly what you could’ve had if you’d behaved.”

“Prick,” Cisco said, but his hands went back where they’d been. Hartley kissed his neck and rubbed his clit.

“Good boy,” he said. “Such a good boy. Everyone knows how handsome you are, you know. And if I told any one of the Rogues that I was the one who got to be balls-deep in you, they’d be _so_ jealous.”

Cisco panted. Hartley reached up with his hand, slid his come-slick fingers into Cisco’s mouth, sighing when his tongue worked over them, frantic and desperate. “There you go. That’s it. You feel so good I don’t even mind being used. You’re so fucking gorgeous, handsome. Being used by you feels incredible.”

Cisco jerked his hips back, slamming against Hartley’s lap, whining, desperate, drooling over the fingers in his mouth as he sucked and whimpered and bit.

“Everybody knows how beautiful you are but you,” Hartley sighed. “You’re too shy and nervous and wound up and tight, so fucking tight, your pussy is fucking molten, Cisco, c’mon, _mi alma, amor de mi alma,_ fuck god damn it—“

He was trying to be kind and reassuring and all that good stuff, but his fingers had tipped Cisco over the edge into orgasm before he even knew it, and Cisco was _sobbing,_ tears spilling down his face as he screamed Hartley’s name, a disjointed, slurring plea that stopped sounding like a name, turning into an unearthly wail. There was a beat as his thighs quivered and he sobbed, trying to put himself back together with heaving gulps of air into his trembling lungs.

And then Hartley’s fingers found Cisco’s clit, and started stroking again.

 _That_ merited a literal howl, Cisco’s throat bobbing, a vein in his neck pounding as he thrashed and cried out and sobbed on top of Hartley’s lap, and it was a miracle he hadn’t come, really—

Mid-stroke, Hartley did just that, spilling into Cisco, slicking up his insides so well that his dick slid from Cisco’s cunt of his own accord. His hips stuttered, loose and disjointed and sloppy, his softening cock too soaked to be inside of Cisco’s dripping cunt. The rest of his come got all over both their thighs, mingling with sweat so Cisco slid right off of Hartley’s thighs and off to the side just enough to fall over.

Hartley clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing as Cisco lifted his head to regard him, his hair falling in his face. His lips twitched, and it was the break in the levees; both of them burst out laughing at one another, Hartley throwing his head back and committing to the sound, riding it out along the warm waves of post-orgasm glow, still laughing when Cisco climbed back up onto his lap and lowered his mouth onto his dick.

“ _Oh,”_ Hartley gasped, fisting his hands in Cisco’s dark hair, “sweet Jesus, Cisco, you don’t have to—“

Cisco pulled himself up off his cock with a pop, licking his lips. “Wanna.”

“Oh,” Hartley sighed, grinning. “Well, thank you.”

Cisco rolled his eyes, but he hummed around Hartley’s cock, taking him to the hilt, breathing him in, keeping him warm. Hartley put his hand against Cisco’s neck, counting his pulse beats and frowning. “Still going pretty fast. Up for another round just to clear the air?”

Cisco pulled his mouth away again, his own slick and the remains of Hartley’s come dripping off his lips. “You’re not.”

“Ouch,” Hartley said, putting a hand to his heart. “Relax, _mano._ I’m just gonna use my fingers if that’s all right with you.”

“You? Sexually selfless?” Cisco teased, nuzzling between Hartley’s legs, kissing the base of his cock. “Who are you and what did you do with Hartley?”

“Oh, be quiet and come here,” Hartley groused, pulling Cisco into his lap and opening his legs up. “Do you wanna come again or not?”

Cisco looked away, his hair falling over the side of his face, brushing his neck as he tucked it behind his ear, shuddering at the touch of his fingers on his own skin. “I…please?”

Hartley sighed, content, and slid his fingers inside Cisco, working two inside of him while his thumb rubbed at his clit, ignoring the steady cramp building in his hand for the chance to watch Cisco writhe and whine and cry out above him, his fingers digging into Hartley’s shoulders, drawing blood as his thighs tensed, and Hartley felt slick gather between his fingers, dripping into the crevices of his palm. He slid his hand from Cisco’s cunt slowly, deliberately, sliding his fingers into his mouth.

“Hey, Cisquito _,”_ Hartley sighed, “love you.”

“Shut up,” Cisco mumbled, nuzzling into his neck. Hartley snorted, playing with his hair, ignoring Cisco’s grumbles. “You’re gonna get come in it, dick!”

“Soon as I get hard again I’m gonna jerk it in your hair,” Hartley promised. Cisco drew himself up, glaring at Hartley, wide-eyed.

“You _wouldn’t,”_ he said.

“Would,” Hartley said, bringing him close, kissing his forehead. “Feel better?”

“Mm,” Cisco hummed, laying his head on Hartley’s shoulder. “I’m tired, though. Cum coma.”

“Sounds about right,” Hartley agreed. “Then sleep.”

“You’re not going anywhere?”

“What do I look like, a one and done sort of guy?”

Cisco made an unsure noise and bobbed his head. Hartley grimaced. “Thanks for your faith in me, but I’m staying.”

Cisco yawned, nodded, and nuzzled his face deeper between Hartley’s shoulder and chest. Hartley reached out, snatching up his jacket and grabbing his phone. He checked his phone, brows raised. The door was open, and with the introduction of non-hermetically-sealed air, his reception was back. He knew just who to text.

…

Text from: Bitch Baby

To: Goldfinger

Guess who I just had sex with??

 

Text from: Goldfinger

To: Bitch Baby

ew i literally dont need to hear abt u having sex tho??

 

Text from: Bitch Baby

To: Goldfinger

Okay, fine. But hey, just so you heard it from me, I was _definitely_ his first. Cisco’s, I mean. I totally fucked Cisco.

 

There was a pause. Then Hartley’s phone buzzed, almost vibrating out of his hand.

 

Text from: Goldfinger

To: Bitch Baby

youre fucking lying

 

“Cisco?” Hartley said, nudging him. Cisco opened his eyes, blinking, a little bit of Hartley’s come trickling from the corner of his mouth. He looked exhausted. He looked divine.

“Mhm?”

“Can I take a picture of you?” he asked. “You look beautiful right now.”

Cisco hummed. “Mmk.”

Hartley held his phone steady and snapped the picture. It wasn’t indecent; you could barely see Cisco’s bare chest, let alone the come dribbling down his thighs, drying to streaks, or the love bites along his bruises, ringing a crown along his shoulders. There _was_ the come on his lips and chin though, so that was something.

He slapped a filter on it, for aesthetic’s sake, (and to emphasize the come on his lips), and hit ‘send.’

There was a pause. Cisco snuggled closer, mouthing against Hartley’s skin in his sleep. Somehow, he slept through Hartley’s phone literally vibrating out of his hand.

 

Text from: Goldfinger

To: Bitch Baby

listen up you awful fuck you evil piss abortion fuckbox FIRST i am going to fucking beat the everloving shit out of you you monkey dicked shrimp penis abomination shitcheese and then i am going to drive over there and i am going to turn you into a shitty statue cut ur dick off and then fuck cisco until he chokes u fucking awful fucking garbage puke trashfucker I SAW HIM FIRST YOU BUCKTOOTHED DICK GILLED FUCK

 

Text From: Goldfinger

To: Bitch Baby

hartley i know ur fuckin readin g these u echnida hand penis i will fork u in the fuckking cock and make u fuckin eat it

so help me god ill sashimi ur dick

 

Text From: Goldfinger

To: Bitch Baby

 

HARTLEY

I AM TELLING LENNY AND MICK HARTLEY

WE CALLED DIBS YOU PISS EATER

 

To: Goldfinger

From: Bitch Baby

It’s not my fault Aphrodite hit him with a face full of fuckdust. Hey, yell at her about it after you’re done fucking her, maybe?

 

To: Bitch Baby

From: Goldfinger

DO NOT TRY TO WEASEL OUT OF THIS, PISS WEASEL

 

To: Goldfinger

From: Bitch Baby

GTG, he’s waking up. He looks so cute when he sleeps after getting fucked hard!! You should really see it. ;)

 

To: Bitch Baby

From: Goldfinger

I AM GOING TO FUCK HIM SO WELL HE IS GOING TO DENY YOU THREE TIMES BEFORE GOD LIKE PETER BEFORE JESUS

 

To: Goldfinger

From: Bitch Baby

Aren’t you Jewish?

 

He didn’t get a response. Hartley clucked his tongue, kissing the crown of Cisco’s head.

A loud clatter made him look up, meeting the Flash’s wide-eyed, horrified expression with a grin. “Hey! How’s it going?”

Barry’s face was white with fury as his trembling hands ripped off his mask, his teeth bared. “If you—did anything—to _hurt him—“_

“No, dipshit, he got hit with a faceful of fuckdust, and before his brain could short-circuit I took care of him,” Hartley said. “Note me chilling out in the containment pod after a great orgasm? Not escaping? It’s a good time.”

He beckoned him close with a single finger. “Speaking of good times, I’m willing to share, you know. So long as Cisco is. You’re more than welcome to come make sure all of those pheromones are _really_ out of his system, if you’d like.”

He nudged Cisco. “ _Mi alma,_ get up. You want a threesome with the Flash?”

“What?” Cisco mumbled, blinking and shaking his head. “Barry? Oh my god, _mano,_ why are you here?”

“Could we not casually throw my name around—you know what, whatever,” Barry sighed. “I’m taking the key so you can’t lock us in here, though.”

“Never even dreamed of it,” Hartley sighed. “Now c’mon, Scarlet, let’s see that dick.”

And sure, as Barry undressed and crawled in between the two of them, exchanging kisses, it was great. Cisco rippled like a tide between them, pulling them all together, his come slicking up everyone’s skin until they were all a satisfied, sticky mess, mingling kisses and sliding cocks and fingers together, inside of Cisco and one another. It was a good time.

But he still wasn’t going to tell Barry that Lisa was coming over _very_ soon.


End file.
